The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News

Whilst hunting, I met my target returning to his room just as I was attempting entry. After quickly confirming his identity, I promptly shot him, only to discover he was already riddled with bullet holes - Drat! I knew skipping that lecture in Necrosis Recognition would come back to haunt me.

Just as the party finished Dancing Shadow was sitting with Black Shadow and some unknown, but strangely familiar looking guest and talking to Black Shadow about his past as the assassin. The guest seemed unusually interested in our conversation. He joined saying he is an assassin himself and that he attempted to kill one of his targets tonight. It could not be a coincidence! Dancing Shadow understood that is Chris, the Unknown. Being under strong alcoholic influence he was unable to struck down the assailant at the spot, but tricked him with a fake name. He also managed to get assassin's name (Chris Hands!) and address. As Chris Hands and Dancing Shadow parted it was certain that one of them is going to die soon.

Dancing Shadow prepared a perfect plan to get rid of the impending danger (Chris Hands). He asked The Muffin Man (former assassin who knew Chris Hands) for help. The Muffin Man would trick Chris Hands into leaving his lair and swift justice would be delivered. Everything went as planned. Chris Hands was lured out and Dancing Shadow killed him with enchanted weapon (casting spell "BANG!"). Dancing Shadow was safe... for now.

Instead of challenging him on firepower against his super soaker, I decided to be devious and dressed in running gear pretended I was a jogger. While he got annoyed at my hide and seek I did a few laps of the park jogging past him to dispel any suspicion, before squirting him with my water bottle. Afterwards, I drank the rest to rehydrate myself from the running. Hooray for ready made disguises and weaponry!

At approx 5:30pm today, the group of "competent" assassins came to [UNSPECIFIED] in an attempt to assassinate The Contessa. They executed a clever and successful back-door assault on an innocent. She suffered a confusing and panic-stricken death. One brave soul of the large group did make a successful entry into The Contessa's room. However, upon seeing her, he immediately apologized for his presence and ran away shouting "there's no one here". His competence is clearly in question; he cannot be blamed however, as The Contessa's fearsome reputation clearly preceded her and the mere thought of engaging her would cause even the most competent of assassins to run away as a knight fleeing the killer bunny. Unfortunately the group, who were all bearing openly, were too swift in their haste to escape and so narrowly avoided a slaughter as The Contessa came chasing down the stairs just moments too late.

People sometimes crave Chocolate, but today they didn't seem to want any. Not even when Chocolate was in their colleges, in their courts, right in front of their doors... That said, one inco didn't get as far as Chocolate because he'd already been killed by Tea...

The Jackal's Jackalope Jacket is pleased to report the stabbing related demise of Roseanna Pendlebury just outside Sidney Sussex. Google stalking had yielded both a picture and the knowledge of a SciFi soc meeting to convene at 7.30pm. Arriving at 7 (the early jacket gets first dibs on murder, as my grandfather Sweeney's Sealion Sou'wester used to say), the jacket lurked as inconspicuously as an animated bloodstained coat can - surprising and filleting his target only meters from safety in Sidney at about 7.20pm. Contract fulfilled, the Jacket departed swiftly (in case of any vengeful SciFiers with energy weaponry).

Today, whilst going about my incompetence a couple of friendly guys came to see me, and wondered into my room where I and a couple of friends were discoursing. He asked whether Brook was about and I said no. So they left. Except I forgot and realised that I was in! I tried to call them back but they did not hear. So I got the attention of one of them with a rubber band gun. One police man less and the world is a little closer to anarchy.

Whilst in the bar, I found one Chris Terry trying to find his way to the bottom of a bottle. Filled with remorse at his new found incompetency, he drowned his sorrows in search of release. He found it at the end of my knife instead.

The news was spreading. Many people stopped being worthy calling themselves assassins so they had to be killed. Dancing Shadow attempted to kill Fred Maynard. Bearing a banana-gun he stormed his chamber only to find him being undead. On the following day similar disappointment happened with Chris Terry. Too much foul magic around.

This evening, at around 10.15, I and my good friends Lieutenants Riker and Geordi La Forge accompanied me to (Unspecified College) for a double kill. I dispatched my target Joaquim d'Souza with a bullet through the heart and finished him off with a knife in the stomach. I then proceeded to the room next door to aid my police comrades in dealing with the incompetent James Edward Staniforth.

Dancing Shadow prepared to launch an attack on the Goban of death's bastion. Bearing a magical water thrower he first tried to pick lock his gate, but failed. Then tried to ram it down but failed in attempt. He retreated to defensible position and waited for his enemy to come out. Shortly he saw gate opening and the enemy himself charging at him. After few seconds of inconclusive struggle Dancing Shadow shouted: "I challenge you for a duel! Leave your defences and face your death!" As the Goban of death agreed they went on a plain field with few carriages standing around. They took their ground and the duel started. After short exchange of fire and knife throwing, Goban of death took position behind a carriage. Dancing Shadow managed to avoid enemy's bullets and also reached the vehicle. Goban of death had to retreat from his position, but the decision was made too late. One of the bullets reached and subsequently killed him.

Good evening, O glorious Umpire.

Today I went hunting incos, with Data and Ninja Yodeller.

We visited the fortified castle in which Gypsy King resides. After talking our way past the terrifying guards, we found their room. Which was shut. Some conversation couldn't persuade them to come out, so we think they were in fact out. Disappointed, we left to find our next victim.

Traipsing through the streets of [Unspecified City], we located the abode of Chris Terry. With skill and cunning, we not only talked our way through the three guards (one who tells the truth, one who lies, and one who stabs you while your back is turned), but we navigated the devious labyrinth they had constructed to protect their room. Locating it, we convinced them to open the door, and I shot them several times (as did my colleague Data). Then we discovered they had apparently already been shot.

Now rather annoyed, we crossed the road to the tower in which our third target resided. After sneaking past the guards, and climbing right to the top in which their lair of darkness had its core, we burst in through their door. Only to find yet another zombie sprawled across the floor, and bloodstains on the wall informing us of the death of Brook Roberts not a few hours ago. Now rather demoralised, we called it a day.

We remain, of course, your humble servants,
Death! Undercover...

Darth Umpire,

After a week of inactivity, the Empire has struck back in style! The rebel stronghold of St. Michael's court was fortified (forceified?) with the best defences the Alliance had to offer, and many stormtroopers were lost before the main gate was breached. Unfortunately, not even the awesome power of a death star could overcome the jedi keycode lock on the staircase door, and it was not until later that a suitable redshirt (right franchise?) arrived whose mind could be bent to my will, or rather followed in at a respectful distance. Jedi for metres around were able to sense the disturbance in the force that ensued when the lightsaber came down soon after.

*heavy breathing* dun-dun-dun-dundundun-dundundun

After watching the door to his block from a distant window until he emerged, I stalked the inco Stephen Hobbs until he reached the queue for dinner, and then heroically stabbed him in the back.

Oh the frustration! Having succesfully found my target's staircase, and at the same time as someone else was entering, I went to their room - the door was open.... Peering inside I could see nobody, however the room next to it was also open and the resident informed me that target Brook Roberts was at a supervision, and wouldn't be back for at least 30mins. Annoying, but not as bad as the next words out of his mouth 'Oh, but if you're an assassin he's already dead'. Foiled again.

Kitty Noone sat at her desk, dozing lightly. There was work in front of her, but it just wasn?t getting done. Mr Snuggles was curled on the bed, his serrated beak causing him to snore slightly.

Suddenly a sound brought her round to wakefulness. The doorbell! Who could it be at this time? It was the middle of the afternoon, and most folk had lectures or were working, like she was. She could think of no purpose for this other than sinister.

Her room mate answered the door as Kitty dragged Mr Snuggles off the bed. Even more savage than normal for being awoken from his nap, he snapped at her, and ruffled his dark feathers.

?Hi, is this Kitty?s* room?? She heard, in a voice she didn?t recognise. Her suspicions confirmed, Kitty raised Mr Snuggles to head height, just as her room-mate banged on her own door.

?Just a second!? She called, checking the penguin was ready. His eyes glinted in what was almost glee. And she opened the door.

He wasn?t where she?d thought; he?d retreated round the corner to the entrance to their set. But there he was, and there was a gun in his hand! Kitty lunged, lofting Mr Snuiggles through the air in a manner that would have utterly stumped zoologists claiming that penguins can?t fly. The gun went off, but wide, the bullet burying itself in the wall.

And Mr Snuggles was on him, like a demon in penguin form.

Her room-mate made Kitty clean all the blood off the floor.


*You will never learn my true name!

Having just purchased a pair of magnums from the dealer on market square I proceeded to the new museums site where I prepared my weapons in a hidden location. I awaited Hassan's arrival at his lecture with my bad boys, one in each pocket. As he came through the door I plastered him to the wall. There was shouts of "Commitment!". I thought so, they cost me 59p.

Dearest Umpire,

I write to inform you of pure cowardice on behalf of my target (Kiwi Sin). Who refused to meet his demise at the hands of a "student newspaper salesman" by silencing his chatter with a friend and remaining inside at 1330.

What suspicious times we live in- thus I was forced to make a retreat through the dirty long and dark tunnel that is Hobson's passage!

Yours sincerely

Hobnob (Hobson's twin brother)

Torquemada still has the annoying habit of never leaving his room EVER, and I'm not entirely sure that The Contessa's department of [UNSPECIFIED] even exists.

As the sky darkened and grew forth to consume the joy of the day, I set forth to hunt. I had soon reached the land of my quarry, through shadows I crept, relishing The Darkness as I swiftly sought out the fortress of my target. By now I was acquainted with the fiendish magical wards protecting this place, locks of eldrich power securing the portal through which bloodshed awaited. Once more I sought out the shadows, that I might pursue an entity acquainted with this dark magic through the portal. Thus, I waited.

And waited.

Many did pass by as I lurked in The Darkness, unobserved as I sought to divine their destination, but sadly none did seek the portal that I did. That is, until one entity in particular caught my eye, rapidly I set about my pursuit as it became clear that he sought the same route that did I. Tragically however, I was not fast enough, synchronizing both silent running and dodging the bright, searing lights littering the area I was not quite fast enough. However, for a final twist in the tale, as I watched the portal crackle with energies, suddenly sealed, the entity I had sought to pursue glanced at me from within his fortress. He would have seen but a mysterious figure, a dark ghoul of the shadows, but in that moment I daresay I saw more than merely the suspicious curiosity of a civilian amid this dark game of murder, indeed, I daresay I saw the eyes of a killer, the one whose death I sought. True, he had nothing to fear from me from within his fortress, but I couldn't help but smile that if I was correct in my presumption, a seed of purest discord may have been sown within his mind: That a hunter awaits him in The Darkness.

Alternatively, I've struck fear into the heart of an innocent. Either way, a successful trip.

Hello, O Umpire.

Today I took with me another compatriot, the infamous James T. Kirk, and we went out hunting.

First, we visited the room of ODB. There we were foiled by a locked door to their staircase, so after some lurking, we continued on our path at around 1925.

We then visited the room of Thoughtfox. They were out, but the door to their set was unlocked. A quick sneak past the neighbour, and we were concealed inside. The neighbour then informed us that they were both dead, and I gently delurked. A pleasant conversation was eventually punctuated by the arrival of Thoughtfox themself, who also claimed to be dead, and we then left at around 2000.

Next we sneaky-sneaked to the room of Matt Green. One of their neighbours was a prior acquaintance, so we convinced them to let us in, persuaded them to open their door, and were faced by a hail of gunfire! My reflexes saved me, and I shot Matt Green several times in the chest. We then had a short chat with the corpse and a complete passerby, before continuing on our way at around 2040.

From there we continued to the room of Tim Lui. Their fortress was near impenetrable, but we convinced the guards to let us in, and then obtained entry to their room. Again, the opening of the door was punctuated by heavy gunfire. Again my reflexes and blocking skills saved me, while the target lay dead on the floor. Continuing on our way, we left at about 2100.

Then we went to the bar of [Unspecified College], in order to look for Distant Villain. However, he wasn't there. So we left again, and went on our final spate of hunting.

Here we reached the infamous fortress of Oisin Huhn, from which I had been repulsed only yesterday! Today, however, the world smiled upon us, for we talked our way in with smooth lies and flattery, burst into their room, and shot them in the corner. James T. Kirk delivered a second wave of 'firepower' to the corpse, and we took our leave at around 2130.

On our homeward path, we stood outside the house of Quantum Snail for a while, but couldn't find any way to break into this truly impenetrable tower. So we separated and walked to our own rooms.

Yrs, Death! Undercover...

Reports now in about Chocolate-related deaths in night clubs! A group of innocents almost got unwanted killer Chocolate for saying "What happens if someone tries to assassinate you?" "You assassinate them right back!", but a cocoaic investigation revealed that actually, none of them were playing. At this point, Matthew Hinks arrived. Matthew Hinks? He doesn't usually come here! He must only be here for the Chocolate! So, like an Easter egg of death, Chocolate stayed out of his line of sight until he'd finished surveying the room and went to sit down. At this point, Chocolate spread through the club and a lightsabre-bearing Matthew Hinks got Chocolated, to the hilarity of his friends, and a sympathetic sambuca shot afterwards, since people don't expect Chocolate to stab them! Some innocent (term used loosely!) friends discovered that a) bearing a lightsabre and b) saying you're an Assassin whilst holding the same kind of pen as your friend's knife, but unlabelled, in a very suspicious manner gets you Chocolated, too. Guess the Assassin-related hilarity then ensued until Chocolate decided that liqueur Chocolate is a good variant on the non-alcoholic variety and busied themself with this instead.

This unit is beginning to suspect that it's previous assumptions about Hobson were incorrect.

With his physical appearance logged and recorded, I set out to organise a swift "restructuring of his official data" after his lectures at [LOCATION_WITHHELD]. However, through clandestine and unorthodox means the target evaded this unit, and thus remains breathing borrowed air.

His time will come though. No-one can escape deletion.

Citizen Erased

Sam Cockton is dead from a knife to the head. (Well the back, but head rhymed so whatever)

Visited incos Gypsy King and Quantum Snail. Lurked both players' houses' doorways but did not gain entry. Flashpoint came at end of time period when a white male exited a door suspected to be Quantum Snail's abode. Followed him casually along the street, admiring his manly locks, immaculate fashion sense and an impressive beard, to a side entrance of [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE]. As he was about to cross through the gateway I queried if this chap was the inco I sought.

Chuckling, this presumed innocent civilian replied "Who on Earth could that be? I have no idea..." and so went on his way

We shall see then.

I went to [unspecified] college to take down my innocent poor little victim. I was getting closer and closer, but my victim apparently has cautious guards (the porters) who spotted me, the stranger, and did not let me in... and so the victim remains to greet another sunrise... but not for long...

Today I went on a quest to find and kill enemy of the entire humanity Mr Saint Sir God. Unfortunately while I was looking for his appartaments I ran into his loyal bodyguard - porter of [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE] - and, in order not to make them aware of our glorious guild, had to leave without spilling blood : (

Name: Gavin Tapsfield

Time of Death: 12:15

Manner of Death: Knife in the back

Notes: The target's location was acquired and this unit was dispatched to ensure that the meal he was enjoying would be his last. A swift switchblade to the spine later, the data-handlers began to wipe his existence from all databases. Deletion is now complete.

Only one file remains, a memento of sorts. A distorted image of Gavin Tapsfield slumped over a table, his last breath filled with the smell of buttery food.

Citizen Erased

The fools still elude me. By the Machine God, where are all those hive rats hiding?!

I received an email from Aaron Miles notifying me of a particular society meeting and realising he was an incompetent prepared to loose him of his shame. This wasn't going to be any old kill however, as I knew his residence well. I waited at the top of a hill until his appearance from his block. When he inevitably came out of the door I mounted my bicycle and drew my lustrous sabre. Metal glinting in the moonlight and battle cry echoeing over the compound I rode down towards him. He immediately turned, saw me and legged it. I followed him down the hill but his on foot acceleration was too much for me and he was already around the corner and out of college. I dumped my bike on the road outside the plodge and began chase.

There were many confused and worried stares, but had they known the shameful state of my victim the onlookers would have cheered me toward my goal!

The Chase was heated, but my long legs soon made ground on my heavily coated target. Within 30 seconds he was wearied and I was ready to kill.

But at the last moment he turned and fired the most unusual contraption at me! It appeared to contain a ferocious cat! Unfortunately for Aaron Miles the Cat flew harmlessly into the road and before the moment was up Aaron Miles was slashed in half.

N.B no cats were harmed, The cat found a loving family soon after.

Unspecified college's cohort of unspecified subject students departed for their annual night of beverage revelry. Edward C West was known to be among their number in the year below his hunter.

Had him pointed out when the crawling of pubs had reached the establishment known as 'spoons.

Standing outside at the close of festivities therein, I drew my pistol and fired a clean shot to the chest.

Reaching the next pub, I offered to buy his corpse a drink.

"5T0P C4MP1NG U N00B5!!111" ~ T3H 1337 K1LL3R (pr0)on Noobs (definitely not pro).

I made an attempt to kill No-Face for the second time.
He wasn't there, furthermore nobody in his neighbourhood knew him - It's just impossible :) Three times a charm.